


More Than Life Itself

by Brumeier



Series: At The Movies [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Animal Transformation, Community: mcsheplets, Community: romancingmcshep, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Outsider, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: Movie fusion: LadyhawkeAll that Mouse wanted was to escape the dungeons of Altair and start over. What she got instead was to be part of a quest to reunite two lovers separated by magic and villainy, and redeem herself in the eyes of the Ancestors.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fills hurt/comfort bingo square: unwanted transformations
> 
> Fills McSheplets Prompt #248: separate

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156598319@N08/35962595681/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Mouse was miserable. She was cold, wet, and covered in substances it was best not to think about. She wished she’d thought to bring her clothes with her, but in her haste to shimmy down the drainage pipe she’d forgotten. 

“I apologize in advance, Ancestors,” Mouse said quietly as she moved through the narrow sluiceway. “I will have to borrow some clothes if you find it in your hearts to let me out of here.”

It was foolhardy, perhaps, to make the Ancestors aware of her future transgressions while she was still stuck in the bowels of Altair. No-one had ever escaped the dungeons, not in a hundred years, but Mouse aimed to be the first. And surely the Ancestors were on her side. Why else would she have been moved to a solitary cell with a crumbling drain cover? She’d forgone quite a few meals to get her already slim body thin enough to slip down the pipe.

The sluiceway opened up into a larger tunnel, which would’ve made the going easier if not for the chest-high water running through it. Mouse had already become inured to the smell of waste but she wasn’t too eager to dip her naked body in it. Still, unless she decided to live down there with the rats, she needed to keep moving.

“If this is punishment for my misdeeds, I humbly accept it,” she said. “Is it too much to hope that at the end of my journey there will be a place to wash?”

Mouse let herself daydream about hot water and frothy soap, and then she reached the end of the tunnel where the waste water drained out into the sea. There was no grating, but as she discovered that was due to the pipe being set into a sheer rock face far above the waters below. Invaders would find it impossible to climb up, and there was only one way down.

“Nothing worthwhile is easily done,” she sighed. The Ancestors were clearly testing her.

Mouse got to the very edge of the drain pipe and squatted there, assessing the distance. If she dropped straight down there was the danger that she’d land on the sharp rocks below, which she was hoping to avoid if at all possible. A running start would’ve been helpful, but the pipe wasn’t tall enough for her to stand upright. Still, any extra speed was good and so she backed down the pipe, hunched over, and then moved forward as fast as she could in that awkward position.

She fought back the urge to scream as she pushed off the lip of the pipe and flung herself out into space, arms wide. It was exhilarating and terrifying, and as the water rushed up to meet her she pulled her arms in and tried to angle herself so as not to land on her belly.

Mouse cut through the water, which was so blessedly warm, skimming her toes on the rocks but missing them with the rest of her body. She kicked to the surface, jubilant. She’d done it! She’d escaped the dungeons and survived the fall! The Ancestors were truly on her side.

“Thank you!” she called out. “I will live a better life, I promise!”

Thankful that she’d learned to swim when she was but a child, Mouse started heading for shore. She planned to be well away from Altair before her absence raised the alarm. She was free, and she intended to stay that way.

*o*o*o*

There were several small towns and villages outside the city, and Mouse was able to outfit herself easily by snatching clothes off drying lines. Shoes were harder to find, and she had to make do with a pair that were a bit too big. Of course, those weren’t her only needs, and she soon found herself apologizing to the Ancestors again when she relieved a baker of a loaf of bread.

“The truth is, I need sustenance if I am to continue with my life of moral virtue,” she said, crouching in an alleyway and ripping off chunks of the still-warm bread. “I will make reparations when I am able, I promise it.”

The Ancestors were clearly not appeased, because the baker found her and gave chase, calling for assistance in capturing the bread thief. Mouse ran, the remainder of the illicit bread tucked into her “borrowed” tunic. The oversized shoes slowed her down a bit, but she wasn’t called Mouse for nothing; she was able to slip through spaces a grown man would find impossible.

Her luck continued to sour, because there were Altairan Guard in town. Mouse didn’t know if they were looking for her specifically but she didn’t want to wait and find out. In her haste to flee she ran right into someone, sending them both crashing to the ground. Before she could regain her feet the guards were there, swords pointed, and she was sure she was going back to the dungeons with bread crumbs stuck to her bosom.

“Colonel, how nice to see you.” The guard in charge stepped forward, and Mouse was confused until she realized they were talking to the man she’d knocked down. 

“Wish I could say the same,” the man replied. 

He got to his feet, and Mouse marveled at the strange trousers he wore, which were black and covered in pockets. Her fingers itched to see the contents of them, old habits rising to the fore, so she unobtrusively sat on her hands; it wouldn’t do to break all her promises on the very first day.

“The Lady Varica will be most pleased to see you.”

“The Lady Varica better get used to disappointment.” The man pulled a weapon of some kind from a sheath he wore strapped to his leg. Mouse had never seen the like and studied it with an avaricious eye. “I’ll just be going.”

“I don’t think so.” The guard motioned to his men, who advanced on the stranger.

Mouse thought that would be an excellent time for her to get moving, but then the strange weapon started to fire beams of light. Her mouth hung open as one by one the guards dropped in their tracks, not a mark upon them. This man had magic, and surely he’d been sent by the Ancestors.

Still, even with the light-weapon there were a lot of guards and soon enough the man turned and fled. Mouse scrambled after him, not about to get left behind. She dogged his heels, through one alley and then another, and finally across the main square. It turned out the man had a horse tied up there, a sleek black thing with flares of white over its hindquarters.

“Take me with you!” Mouse shouted as the man swung himself up into the saddle. He looked down at her in surprise.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Please! They will take me back to the dungeons. I cannot go back!”

The man looked uncertain, and then the remaining guards burst into the square. The man bit his bottom lip and scowled, but he held a hand out to Mouse and swung her up behind him on the horse.

“Hang on,” he told her. He nudged the horse with his heels and the thing took off like the Wraith were giving chase.

Mouse held on tight, her arms wrapped around the man’s waist. It would’ve been an excellent opportunity to liberate him of anything he might be carrying in his pockets, but this time she was able to fight the urge. If the Ancestors had sent the man to assist her she couldn’t very well pick his pocket.

“Who are you?” she shouted over his shoulder.

“Colonel John Sheppard. Nice to meet you,” he called back.

Colonel was an unusual name, but then she could hardly throw stones as far as that went. “I am called Mouse.”

“Hold tight, Mouse.” Somehow Colonel spurred the horse to go even faster using only a cluck of his tongue.

Mouse grinned and had to resist the impulse to spread her arms and imagine she was flying.

*o*o*o*

Colonel had a well-camouflaged hidey-hole not far outside town. When the Guard thundered past on their horses twenty minutes later, they didn’t even slow down. Mouse watched them through the screen of branches and vines and quietly cheered as soon as they were out of sight.

“It’s safe,” Colonel said. He removed the horse’s tack and carefully stacked it in the corner. “You can leave.”

“No, thank you,” Mouse replied politely. She pulled the bread out of her tunic, which she in turn pulled out of her trousers so she could get most of the crumbs out. The bread was smushed but still edible, and she held it out to Colonel. “Would you like some? I should warn you that I did technically steal it, but I promise to pay the baker back just as soon as I can.”

Colonel raised one eyebrow, and Mouse immediately attempted to emulate that, with no success. “Who are you?” 

“I am Mouse,” she reminded him. “Did I thank you for helping me? Because I am very grateful.”

“You said they’d send you back to the dungeons. Aren’t you kind of young to be a criminal?”

Mouse stood as tall as she was able and blew a bit of shaggy bangs out of her eye. “I am fully ten and six, Colonel.”

“You can call me John.” He sat on a bedroll next to the remains of a fire and took off the bulky vest he was wearing. “Why’d they throw you in the clink?”

“Clink?”

“The dungeons.”

Mouse sat opposite him, the hard-packed dirt floor cool even through the barrier of the trousers. “I am ashamed to say that I have an unfortunate tendency to relieve people of their belongings.”

Colonel – John – chuckled. “You’re a thief?”

“Well, legitimate opportunities are scarce for underdeveloped orphans,” Mouse replied with a shrug. She’d always been shaped more like a boy, but she didn’t mind; breasts would only impede her from things like shimmying down drain pipes. “I promised the Ancestors I would mend my ways, should my escape prove successful. Which it has.”

The lighting was dim, but Mouse could almost feel the sharpening of John’s gaze. “So you snuck out of Altair? All by yourself?”

“By the grace of the Ancestors,” Mouse clarified. She was uneasy to be under such close regard, a feeling that was justified moments later.

“So you’d know how to get back in, unseen.”

“Theoretically.”

John grinned. “Great. Because I need to get back to Altair.”

“Back?” Mouse couldn’t help but gape at him. “Why would you want to go back?”

“I have to kill the Lady Varica.”

*o*o*o*

Mouse woke in the middle of the night because someone was stumbling around the cave in the dark, cursing. It didn’t sound like John, who had walked off at sunset and hadn’t returned before Mouse grew too tired to keep watch for him. Perhaps it was one of the Guard, or a less apt thief. She didn’t know what to do. Hold her tongue and hope to go unnoticed? Or defend John’s meager possessions and prove herself worthy of the Ancestors?

The decision was taken out of her hands when a blue glow filled the darkened space and she found herself sharing a wide-eyed look of surprise with a naked man. He immediately clapped his hands over his sex with a bit of a strangled sound, and Mouse took the opportunity to grab a length of wood from the cold fire pit and spring to her feet, waving the wood like a club.

“Who are you?” they asked each other simultaneously. The man’s eyes narrowed and his downturned mouth deepened even further into a furious frown.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” Mouse challenged. “If you are here to steal from Colonel John, I fear I must dissuade you from doing so.”

She imbued her words with as much bravado as she could muster. There wasn’t a whole lot of room to move, and if the man charged her she wouldn’t have much of an opportunity to strike at him. He was much bulkier than John, though, and she could probably get past him before he was on her.

“Do you mind threatening me after I’ve gotten dressed?” The man looked away from her, clearly not viewing her as a formidable foe of any kind, and rummaged one-handed through John’s sack of personal belongings.

“His garments will not fit you,” Mouse pointed out.

“But mine will. Uh, could you turn around or something? Give a guy some privacy?”

“So you can make off with Colonel John’s things? No.”

“Suit yourself.” The man turned his back to Mouse, giving her an unobstructed view of his pale backside.

He must have been telling the truth, though, because the clothing he put on fit him perfectly. So he and John at least knew each other if this man was able to find the cave and had clothing waiting for him. Still, she didn’t loosen her hold on the wood. The Ancestors had sent John to her but that didn’t mean this man was as virtuous.

“That’s better.” He turned back around, wearing clothing of a similar type to John’s. “Now, who the hell are you? Some kind of diminutive bodyguard?”

“I am Colonel John’s squire,” Mouse replied. She mentally apologized to the Ancestors for the lie.

The man snorted. “Sure you are. And I’m the Governor General. Stop waving that club at me, I’m not going to attack a little girl.” He rummaged through the sack again and came up with something that shined brightly in the blue light, the source of which Mouse could not determine.

“What is that?” she couldn’t help asking. Anything that shiny had to be valuable, and the thief in her itched to take it.

“It’s food.” The man astounded her by peeling away the shiny skin to reveal something darker underneath, which he promptly put in his mouth and started to eat. “Didn’t John feed you?”

“I had my own food,” Mouse said. “I do not need others to give me scraps.”

“Congratulations. I’ve known you less than five minutes and you’re already a pain in the ass.” The man sat down on John’s bedroll and quickly polished off whatever he was eating. “I’m Dr. Rodney McKay. John and I are traveling together. And the last time I checked neither one of us was in need of a runty squire.”

Mouse dropped the wood back into the fire pit and sat as well, though she certainly didn’t let her guard down. This one wouldn’t be as easily persuaded as John, she could see that.

“I am called Mouse.”

“Hmm. Fitting. So, you were with John today?” The doctor had an odd expression on his face, a mix of sadness and eagerness and something else Mouse couldn’t name. “How, uh. How was he? Is he okay?”

“I thought you were traveling together. Should you not know?”

“Yes, well, our situation is a little…unusual. I haven’t seen him in a really long time.” Sadness again, his whole face was filled with it. Mouse felt badly for him.

“He is well. He did not mention you, or that you would be joining us.”

The doctor huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet he didn’t. Probably howling over it right now, the adolescent idiot.”

Despite the disparaging words, there was nothing but affection in the doctor’s voice. He was fond of John, then, and sad that they didn’t see more of each other. Mouse wondered why that was.

“You can go back to sleep,” the doctor said. “I have a lot of work to do, and I don’t have time for idle chit-chat. When you see John tomorrow, tell him…tell him he’s a moron.”

“Will you be leaving, then?” Mouse asked, confused. “Would you not like to talk to him yourself?”

The doctor looked down at his hands, the shiny skin of his food crumpled up in a ball. “You have no idea how much I would. But there’s no sense wishing for what I can’t have.”

Mouse wouldn’t have considered going back to sleep with a strange man in such close quarters, but the way he spoke put her at ease. She wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone so sad, but then she remembered the far-off look that John had in his eye, and how he had a kind of wistfulness about him. 

“He misses you too,” Mouse said. She lay back down and closed her eyes, the doctor’s wet sniffling following her back into the land of dreams.

*o*o*o*

John was back in the morning, dark circles under his eyes, and he mumbled a greeting to Mouse before tumbling onto his bedroll and falling asleep. Mouse wasn’t sure what to do with herself until he woke again. She tidied things up, let the horse out to graze, and kept silent watch until her grumbling stomach could no longer be ignored. She very quietly dipped her hand into John’s sack, feeling around until she encountered one of the shiny bars that the doctor had produced the night before.

The outer skin was brightly colored in green and orange and yellow, and there was writing on it that she couldn’t read; a life lived hand-to-mouth didn’t leave much time for learning things like letters and writing. She attempted to peel the smooth skin to get at the food underneath, but it proved resistant to her efforts.

Mouse was startled when the bar was plucked out of her hands by John; she hadn’t heard him waken. 

“Like this,” he said. He grasped it by the jagged top edge and pulled in opposite directions. The skin split, revealing what looked like a very dense oat cake underneath, speckled about with brown seeds. He handed it back to her.

“I should not,” Mouse said forlornly. “I took it without asking.”

John shook his head. “I’m giving it to you. It’s okay, go ahead and eat it.”

Mouse was hungry enough not to need further inducement. It was like nothing she’d ever eaten before. Chewy and flavorful, and the brown seeds proved to be quite sweet. She gobbled it up in an embarrassingly short amount of time and had to restrain herself from licking the inside of the shiny skin.

“So you met Rodney last night,” John said, and though the words were casual there was an undertone that declared the very opposite.

“You did not tell me you had a friend. He startled me.”

“Yeah, I bet he did.” John grinned. “He look okay? I mean, he didn’t seem sick or anything?”

“He seemed perfectly healthy to me,” Mouse replied. “Though he should not wander around without covering himself. It is unseemly.”

Mouse was pretty good at reading people – it was an invaluable defense mechanism – but John kept a lot of himself hidden away. His face betrayed nothing, not like the doctor who was much more physically expressive. She had to work harder with John, listening to his tone of voice, reading his very subtle body language.

“He had a message for you.”

“Oh?” John said it like it didn’t matter, leaned back against the cave wall like he didn’t care. Mouse suspected it was just the opposite.

“He said to tell you that you are a moron.”

Mouse watched intently, saw the way John drew in his bottom lip and hunched his shoulders. The words themselves were fairly meaningless to Mouse, but to John they seemed to mean everything.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said after a long moment. “Come on. You can help me pack up.”

“Where are we going?” Mouse hoped he wasn’t going to say Altair. She knew he wanted to go back there, had seen murder in his eyes when he spoke of the Lady Varica, but to Mouse it seemed reckless and suicidal. John was a free man, why wouldn’t he want to stay that way?

“North. We need to put a little distance between ourselves and the Guard. I don’t plan on returning to Altair in chains.”

Mouse agreed with the sentiment and hoped that she’d have time enough to dissuade John from his murderous intentions.

*o*o*o*

The horse was called Jupiter, named for a horse that John told her he had when he was a young boy. Mouse was more than familiar with the creature after hours spent astride his wide back, her thighs aching. John kept them at a steady pace, since they weren’t actively being pursued, and Mouse didn’t need to hold on so tightly this time. It was also easier to have a conversation.

“Why does the doctor not travel with us?” she asked.

“Rodney? He does, just on a different path. So to speak.”

Mouse didn’t understand. They clearly wished to be together, and the reason they were not must have been compelling.

“You two are friends?”

“Yeah. The best.”

“Will you tell me about him? We did not have much time to get to know one another last night.”

John gave a lopsided shrug. “Not much to say. He’s the smartest guy I know.”

“Then why do you not travel together? Surely that would be safer.”

“We can’t.” John’s response was curt, and Mouse was certain she heard a wealth of pain behind it. Neither man seemed to be impaired, so she didn’t know what was keeping them apart. She thought of the weapon that shot the light beams and decided the problem must be magical in origin.

Mouse had heard stories. At one time Altair had been rampant with magicians who wielded untold powers, for the benefit of the city and the surrounding lands. But somewhere back in the dark labyrinth of history that changed. Some said the Ancestors called them home, and others said they grew power-mad and destroyed each other. There was only the Lady Varica now who could still wield magic, which was why she held the powerful position of advisor to the King.

Perhaps, Mouse concluded, it was the Lady Varica’s magic that was keeping John and the doctor apart. That would explain why John wanted her dead. She also decided that asking John directly would make him even more reticent. No, she would wait. And if the doctor returned tonight, she would ask _him_.

They rode on in silence, stopping only to eat – dried meat, which was difficult to chew, and a handful of dried fruits – until they came to an isolated farm, the house nearly hidden by trees. Upon closer inspection the place was deserted. The roof was partially caved in, and the gardens overgrown. 

“Bad weather coming in,” John said and tipped his head towards the horizon. True to his words, dark storm clouds were gathering.

Mouse helped get Jupiter bedded down in the barn, finding some hay that hadn’t rotted, and then set about sweeping out a space in the house under the still-intact part of the roof. The former residents hadn’t left much behind, not even furniture, and the one blanket Mouse found was rotted and filthy.

“Use my bedroll,” John said. He laid it out on the floor for her. “Rodney won’t sleep anyway.”

By that time the wind had picked up so that the trees out front were thrashing, the creaking of the limbs loud and ominous. It wasn’t raining yet, but the scent of it carried in the air, and Mouse knew it wouldn’t be long before the skies opened. She said a quick prayer to the Ancestors for her safety and John’s. Particularly since he seemed bent on going out in the storm.

“You cannot mean to go out in this?” Mouse protested. “You will catch your death!”

“I’ll be fine.” John cocked his head up as the sharp cry of a hawk pierced through the howling wind. “I have to go. Make sure you eat. And be sure to tell Rodney you were the one that ate the last Power Bar.”

Mouse wanted to grab hold of him, make him stay, make him wait for the doctor. She clenched her hands into fists and watched John leave. The hawk gave another cry, much closer, and when Mouse looked up she could just make out the shape of it high in the rafters, where the hole in the roof was. Probably looking for shelter from the storm, same as she was.

“You stay up there, bird, and we shall have no conflict between us,” Mouse called up to it. She received a flutter of wings in response and chose to accept that as agreement.

*o*o*o*

By the time the sun had set the storm was in full swing, darkness come early. Rain pelted at the house, water cascading down from the hole in the roof; luckily there was a slope to the floor that kept Mouse safely dry. With no light to see by there wasn’t much for her to do, and so she was dozing again when the doctor appeared, accompanied once more by the blue glowing light.

“You are wet.” And naked. Mouse handed him the bundle of his clothes and turned her back to give him a modicum of privacy.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again,” the doctor said once he’d dressed. “You must’ve really fed John a line of bull if he let you tag along.”

“I did no such thing,” Mouse said defensively. “He needs me to…it does not matter.”

But the doctor gave her a keen, appraising look. “He needs you to what?”

“He needs me to help him. I think he is lonely.”

The doctor looked pained at that, his mouth twisting down unhappily. “It’s unavoidable.”

“Will you tell me?” Mouse asked. She held out the pouch of food as an inducement. “It was magic, was it not? That has separated you?”

The doctor sat with her, sharing the bedroll, but he just held the pouch in his hands. “I’m not sure John wants you to know. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s not big on sharing.”

“He does tend towards reticence.”

“Reticence.” The doctor snorted. “Understatement of the millennium. Well, I suppose you’d better know what you’re getting into if you’re going to be traveling with us. Honestly, I don’t know what John’s thinking letting you stay. It’s dangerous, being around us.”

“I am not afraid,” Mouse said. It was at least partially true.

The doctor finally opened the pouch and started to eat, talking around bites of dried, salty beef. “The first thing you should know is that John and I aren’t from here. We came through what you call the Ancestral Portal.”

“I have seen it.” The Portal stood inside the palace, a massive stone ring where people left offerings to the Ancestors in exchange for blessings.

“John and I come from a city even greater than Altair. We came here to meet with your king, establish a diplomatic relationship. It was all very above-board and normal, until the so-called Lady Varica decided she wanted to keep me on staff.” The doctor scowled. “John vehemently disagreed, and there was a squabble. The Lady, who of course has an ATA gene she uses for evil because that’s the kind of luck we have, put the whammy on us with some sort of Ancient device. And now John and I can’t be together.”

Mouse felt there was quite a lot being left out of that story. Everyone knew the Lady Varica was the real power behind the throne, and she could be vengeful. Who else would lock old men and young orphan girls in the dungeons? The Lady had wanted the doctor. Because he was smart, as John said? Or maybe because she coveted him for his physical attributes? Whatever the reason, she’d punished John and the doctor for refusing her.

“What did she do to you?”

The doctor sighed, and rubbed both hands over his face. “She transformed us. During the day I’m a hawk.”

“The bird,” Mouse whispered, wide-eyed.

“She took even that away from John. He’s a pilot, you know. Spaceships, helicopters, anything that can fly. He loves the sky, and Varica took it away from him.” The doctor was angry. “She took me away from him, too. The one person who knows him best, who can keep him from doing stupid, reckless things.”

“And what of John? What does he become when the sun goes down?”

“A wolf.”

Mouse could see that, a lone wolf out hunting in the night. “Do you know him, when you are the bird?”

The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know anything, except being a hawk. Except…I suppose there’s a bit of something there because I never fly too far. I always know where to find John at sunset.”

Not just friends, then. The pieces fell into place for Mouse, like a puzzle box when all of the elements were turned the right way. For such a curse to be truly effective there had to be love, the strongest kind. Her heart broke for them, together but always apart.

“Can you not return through the Portal? Find help amongst your people? Surely the Ancestors would find that a worthy cause.”

The doctor laughed, though without humor. “We can’t get near the Portal. And our people can’t get to us, because Atlantis has been locked out. I’ve almost got it figured out, how to reverse what Varica did to us. I just need a little more time.”

“You have less time than you think,” Mouse said. She hadn’t wanted to tell the doctor, but now she saw that he needed to know. “John is planning to return to Altair, to slay the Lady Varica. He has asked me to help him.”

“What? Why? That idiotic, suicidal ass! How are you supposed to help him?” The doctor tossed the remainder of his meal aside. 

“I escaped from the dungeons. He wants me to sneak him in the same way I left.”

The doctor got to his feet, cursing and waving his arms around. “He needs to give me more time! I’m so close! You need to keep him away from the city, I don’t care how you do it.”

“I will try,” Mouse promised.

“Well, it won’t be easy. John can be incredibly stubborn. I can’t believe he’s doubting that I can fix this. Doubting me.”

“He said you were the smartest man he knows.”

The doctor’s whole face brightened. “Really? He said that?”

“He did. How long has it been, since you first transformed?” Mouse asked. 

“Uh…I think about eight months or so. It’s kind of hard to keep track.”

That was such a long time to be apart from a loved one. Mouse got to her feet and put a tentative hand on the doctor’s arm. He looked at her, startled.

“I do not think he doubts you,” she said. “I think he misses you, and he is tired of being alone.”

The doctor blinked at her, his mouth trembling a little, and then he offered her the tiniest smile. “Maybe you’re worth keeping around after all.”

*o*o*o*

Mouse was pulled out of sleep by the doctor, who was vigorously nudging her with his foot. It was still dark, though the storm had moved on.

“Get up!” the doctor snapped. “John’s in trouble and I need your help!”

Mouse blinked groggily and looked around the room, but she didn’t see John in either of his forms. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and wished she could do the same for her head.

“What?”

The doctor yanked her bodily to her feet. “Can’t you hear him?”

Once he said that she could hear the yipping and barking of an animal in pain. Had someone shot John? Trapped him? Mouse hastily pulled on her boots and followed the doctor out into the night.

The ground, saturated from the rains, squelched under their feet. The doctor led the way, John’s sack slung over his shoulder and brandishing a metal tube that illuminated their path with an otherworldly white light. In his other hand he gripped a weapon similar to John’s.

“He’s this way!” The doctor went crashing through a thicket choked with vines and prickly shrubs that pulled at their clothes.

On the other side of the thicket was a great black wolf, snarling and thrashing and yelping in pain. It took Mouse a moment to discern the problem, which was that the wolf had his leg caught in a trapper’s snare. When the doctor shone his light on it, Mouse saw that the snare had sliced through the wolf’s skin; blood was freely flowing from the deep wound.

“John!” The doctor tried to get close but the wolf snapped at him. It bore out his story that they retained almost no human awareness when in animal form and made Mouse wonder how the doctor knew this particular wolf was John. And then he was aiming his weapon at the beast.

“I don’t want to have to do this, you idiot! Calm down!”

Mouse didn’t even think, just got between the doctor and the wolf, her hands out. “Don’t!”

The doctor sputtered at her, and when he moved forward she moved back. That unfortunately put her too close to the wolf, who grabbed hold of her tunic with his teeth and shook her so hard she fell. Mouse moved quickly, rolling out of the way of the mouthful of teeth but not the big paw tipped in claws that raked furrows down her arm.

The doctor cursed and there was a strange popping noise, but Mouse was more concerned with getting out of the wolf’s reach. She scuttled backwards, using her hands and feet to propel her, until she was a safe distance away. The pain in her arm was tremendous, bringing tears to her eyes, and she could feel blood trickling down into the bend of her elbow.

“Save me from stupid children and idiot wolves,” the doctor grumbled. He’d lowered his weapon and was watching the wolf intently. “Come on, already.”

Mouse watched as well, uncertain what was happening. The wolf was still thrashing and snarling, though he started stumbling a bit. There was something odd sticking out of his flank, a shiny tube with feathers on the end, and she wondered if that had come from the doctor’s weapon. Had he shot John?

“What did you do?” she asked, horrified. True, she’d only known John a short time but he’d been very nice to her. She certainly didn’t want him killed, especially when he had no voice to raise in his own defense.

“Relax. He’s only tranquilized.” The doctor waved the weapon at her. “It’ll just put him to sleep for a little while, so I can get him out of the snare and do something about that leg. I hope to hell I didn’t miscalculate the dosage, though. I’m not a vet, for heaven’s sake. But medication is medication, right? I mean, how hard is it to –”

The nervous rambling ceased when the wolf collapsed, sides heaving. The doctor immediately dropped the weapon and ran to attend his transformed friend. He tossed the light tube to Mouse, who fumbled it one-handed, and instructed her to train the light on the injured foot. She didn’t miss the way the doctor ran his hand over the wolf’s wiry coat first, an affectionate caress.

The doctor pulled a folding knife from his pocket and hacked away at the snare until he’d cut it through. He shrugged the sack off and immediately started digging around inside it. 

“What is that?” Mouse asked when the doctor pulled out a square white box.

“It’s a medical kit. Just the basics, but for now that’s all we need. And yes, I’ll take care of your arm once I’ve dealt with John. No offense, but his injury is much worse than yours.” The doctor was methodical in his movements. He poured something liquid over the wolf’s wound, and then sprinkled a powder on it. “And now some gauze.”

Mouse watched intently. She’d seen doctors in action before, both inside Altair and out, but none had ever wielded the medications that John’s doctor did. Their home must be a very different place indeed. It was almost enough to distract her from the throbbing in her arm.

In short order the wolf’s wound was bandaged and the doctor had covered him with a strange, shiny silver blanket made of no material that Mouse was familiar with. Then, as promised, he gave Mouse’s injury the same attention.

“Funny, I never thought I’d be so good at this,” the doctor said conversationally as he tended to Mouse. “I never thought I’d be good at a lot of things outside my specialty. I have John to thank for that. Him and my team. Somehow John sees things in me I never knew were there. It’s like his superpower.”

“He seems an honorable man,” Mouse said. 

“When he’s not being a moron. If he hadn’t put up such a fuss with Varica none of this would’ve happened. It would all have been very amicable, and then he would’ve devised a rescue or I would’ve manufactured my own escape.” The doctor wrapped a bandage around Mouse’s arm and secured it with something sticky. “They always say I’m the one whose big mouth gets everyone in trouble, but he’s just as bad. Acting on his first instinct all the time instead of thinking things through.”

“He didn’t want to lose you.”

“He did anyway.” The doctor repacked the box and returned it to the sack. “I’m going to stay here with him. You should go back to the house, get some sleep.”

“I’ll stay.” The least Mouse could do was keep watch. She’d already had some sleep, after all, and she wasn’t sure the doctor ever got any, in either form. John certainly didn’t get more than an hour or two at a stretch.

“Suit yourself.” The doctor gave her a shiny blanket like the one that covered John. It was thin and crinkly, but he assured her it would keep her warm. There was enough of it that she could sit on it as well, to keep a barrier between herself and the damp ground.

The doctor passed the rest of the night curled up against the wolf’s back, one hand splayed in that dark, wiry fur. Mouse wasn’t certain he slept, though she suspected not.

*o*o*o*

When dawn broke, a faint rosy glow that steadily brightened in the east, Mouse was witness to magic that ever after she wished she could unsee. For the briefest moment, a literal blink of the eye, John and the doctor were both in their human forms. Mouse held her breath at the staggering amount of emotion she could see on both their faces: love, pain, longing, desperation. John reached out, but before he could make contact flesh had turned to feathers and the doctor was gone.

The hawk took to the skies with a piercing cry and John turned his face into the shiny blanket, which he clutched in fisted hands. Mouse closed her eyes, to give him privacy and so she could collect herself as well. She never wanted to experience love, if it had the capacity to hurt so badly. 

It wasn't until John tried to sit up that he seemed aware of his injury. He winced and examined his ankle, the gauze having unraveled to pool across the top of his foot. The wound was miraculously healed, the skin darkly bruised and scabbed but not broken and bleeding as it had been just hours before.

“The Ancestors have healed you,” Mouse whispered. She tentatively flexed her arm, but it seemed their favor had fallen on John alone. She tried not to be resentful.

“What happened?”

“The wolf was caught in a snare.”

If John was surprised that Mouse knew about the wolf he didn’t express it. Instead he nodded his head at her arm. “And you?”

“It is nothing,” Mouse lied. There was no gain to be had from making John feel badly about something that wasn’t his fault, and she only hoped the Ancestors would agree in this instance.

John clearly didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push. Instead he wrapped the shiny blanket more firmly around himself and headed back to the house, leaving Mouse to gather up the things the doctor had carried out. And his clothes, which had been left in a heap after his transformation.

Mouse picked her way carefully, the ground littered with branches wrenched from the surrounding trees by the storm. John slipped into the barn, and when he joined Mouse back inside the farmhouse he was fully dressed; he must’ve stashed his clothes with Jupiter.

“Would you like something to eat?” Mouse asked.

John merely shook his head and started packing up his things. Mouse was hungry herself, but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask for a handout. Perhaps she’d be able to find something on the way. They’d passed berry bushes the day before.

“You’re not coming,” John said when Mouse made to follow him to the barn.

“I will not be left behind,” Mouse protested.

John turned on her, his face an angry mask. “Yes, you will!” He grabbed her injured arm by the elbow. “This is the _least_ of what I could’ve done to you!”

Mouse couldn’t help but wince as the claw marks pulled, the pain still sharp. She yanked her arm out of John’s grasp. She could be just as stubborn.

“You need me, Colonel John. And so does the doctor. If you leave me behind, I shall simply follow you.”

They glared at each other, and then John threw his hands up and walked away. Mouse assumed that meant she’d won the battle of wills, and she thanked the Ancestors for the victory. She hated reminding John why he was keeping her around, but she would use all the resources at her disposal to keep him on the right path until the doctor could sort things out.

It was going to be harder than she thought.

*o*o*o*

They traveled on an easterly path for most of the day, and John refused to rise to any of the conversational gambits that Mouse threw out at him. She wished the doctor could travel by day, since he at least didn’t mind talking.

Just when Mouse was certain she was going to expire from boredom, they came upon some travelers stranded on the side of the road. A wheel had come off their wagon and they were in the process of trying to repair it.

“Perhaps we should lend a hand.”

“We don’t have time,” John said, his first words since leaving the farmhouse. But he reined Jupiter in anyway.

“Thank the Ancestors!” The obvious patriarch of the family stood and wiped his hands on his trousers. He was traveling with a wife and four daughters far younger than Mouse. “I thought sure we’d be stranded here.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” John said. He swung himself off Jupiter’s wide back, and didn’t offer Mouse a hand down.

Well, that was fine. John was holding a grudge against her, but she didn’t need the help. Mouse clung to the saddle and slid off, dropping awkwardly and landing painfully on her backside. The little girls giggled and she glared at them the way the doctor glared at her sometimes. She was almost certain she saw John grinning before he squatted down to get a closer look at the wheel.

“Where are you traveling?” Mouse asked the wife politely.

“The Noondark Festival in Altair.”

The Ancestors had a cruel sense of humor. If she hadn’t asked, if John hadn’t heard…but he had, his ears pricking up like a cat’s at the mention of Altair. He helped heave the wheel back on the wagon, and then casually asked what the Noondark Festival was.

“You have not heard of it?” the man asked, surprised. 

“I’ve traveled here from pretty far away,” John replied. 

Mouse closed her eyes, and prayed to the Ancestors harder than she had ever prayed before. Surely her good behavior would be rewarded. But clearly they were still holding a grudge about the stolen bread.

“It is a yearly celebration for the favor of the Ancestors,” the wife said. Her husband nodded.

“They allow us passage through the darkness of midday. The city is open to all travelers near and far.”

“There are puppet shows,” one of the little girls said. “And sweets!”

Even with her eyes closed, Mouse could feel the heat of John’s gaze upon her. There would be nothing now to keep him from Altair, and his murderous plans. The doctor would be most displeased.

John finished helping fix the wagon wheel, and the family was effusive with their thanks as their pilgrimage to the city got back underway. He waited until they were well and truly gone before he turned on Mouse, his eyes snapping with anger.

"Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Mouse straightened her spine. She wasn’t about to submit so easily to his ire.

“It was difficult to keep track of days in the dungeons. I kept nothing from you!”

John glared, and it was clear he didn’t believe her. Mouse tried a different tactic. 

“The doctor has asked for more time. Surely you can give it to him. He says he is close.”

“No,” John said. “I’ve given him time. Eight months. I can’t do this anymore. This is no kind of life for either of us.”

Anger bled away into something close to despair. Mouse knew what it was like to be alone in the world, but she had always been that way. She couldn’t fathom being in love and being kept forever apart. To have known closeness and then have it taken away.

“John,” she said. “Please.”

But he turned away, clicking his tongue for Jupiter; the horse had wandered off to graze. “I miss him,” John said, his voice thick with emotion. “I miss watching him build up a good head of steam, pacing and waving his arms around and calling everyone names. As long as Rodney was ranting about something, I knew everything would be okay. But nothing’s okay now. Varica will either fix it, or I’ll make sure she can’t do any more harm to anyone.”

Mouse could tell that John was set on his course, and there was only one thing she could think of to do. She darted in while his back was turned and snatched his magical weapon from its sheath.

“Hey!” John made a grab for her, but Mouse dodged out of the way. She pushed at the buttons until she found the one that turned it on.

“You cannot go. I promised the doctor.”

“And I promised I’d give him time, which I did.”

“And what if the Lady Varica has you killed?” Mouse countered. “Then the doctor will be alone.”

“If I die, this curse will be over. And Rodney can go home.”

Mouse apologized to the Ancestors for the lie she was about to tell. “The doctor told me that he prefers to live a half-life if it means you both stay alive. He loves you, more than life itself.”

John visibly faltered at that, and Mouse mentally cheered, and that’s when he struck, moving far faster than Mouse would have assumed. John tried to pull the weapon from her hands but she held on tenaciously.

“Let go!”

“I will not let you do it!”

The weapon fired a light beam, which hit a nearby tree and sent up a shower of sparks.

“Give it to me! You took it off stun!”

Mouse tried to twist the weapon out of John’s grasp, and he pulled in the opposite direction, and another beam of light shot out, this one going high. They both froze when they heard the hawk scream, both looked up to the sky to see it fall.

“No, no, no!” John abandoned his weapon and took off at a run.

Mouse couldn’t move. Her hands had gone numb, her legs locked. What had she done? Surely the Ancestors hadn’t meant for that to happen. Or had she been the villain of John’s story all this time?

John tried to catch the hawk but he wasn’t quick enough. Mouse dropped the weapon and clapped both hands over her mouth when she heard the thud of the hawk’s body hitting the ground, and the angry, almost wailing, sound John made in response.

“Please, Ancestors,” Mouse whispered. “You cannot do this. Do not punish them for my failings.”

She thought of the Doctor, with his notebook full of strange writing and his naked affection for John. He had asked for her help and she’d been unable to give it. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Mouse!” John shouted. “Bring Jupiter!”

Mouse wiped at her face even as she hurried to do John’s bidding. She tried to think of what she could say, how she could apologize in a way that John would believe, and then he was pressing the hawk into her hands.

“He’s still alive.”

Praise the Ancestors! The hawk was indeed still breathing, though one wing looked terribly damaged. John fished one of the silver blankets out of his pack and very carefully wrapped the hawk up in it.

“Get on the horse,” John instructed.

It took some doing, and John’s one-handed assistance, but eventually Mouse was seated on Jupiter’s wide back. John passed up the hawk to her and she cradled it very carefully against her chest.

“Keep heading north. There’s an abandoned church. I have a friend there who can help. Tell him I sent you, and that he still owes me that favor.”

“But where are you going?” 

“I’ll catch up with the wagon, and hitch a ride to Altair.” John retrieved his weapon, dusting it off before he slid it back into its sheath. “Tell Rodney…tell him I’m sorry. For all of this.”

“Wait!” Mouse protested, but John slapped Jupiter on the hindquarters and the horse took off. She gathered up the reins with one hand and tried to jostle the hawk as little as possible.

When she looked back over her shoulder John was already walking away.

*o*o*o*

The trip north was harrowing. Mouse was certain the hawk would expire at any moment, which she both feared and very nearly wished for. She liked the Doctor, and didn’t want him dead, but neither did she want to tell him that John had gone back to Altair, most likely to get himself killed. It was wrong of John to doom the Doctor to a life without him in it.

Jupiter didn’t respond to any of her commands, but he seemed to know where he was going so Mouse didn’t press the issue. She wished for water, for herself and for the hawk that was making weak sounds of protest in her arms. By the time they got to the ruins of the old church her stomach was growling and her legs were sore from the effort of staying astride Jupiter.

“Hello?” she called out. “Colonel John Sheppard sent me!”

The church seemed well and truly abandoned. One whole wall had fallen in, stone rubble filling the place where pews were meant to be. The stained glass windows were broken, and vegetation had started reclaiming the space. It didn’t seem as if anyone had prayed to the Ancestors there for more years than Mouse had been alive.

“Do you suppose he was merely trying to rid himself of us?” Mouse asked the hawk. It was cruel, if that was indeed the case. Without assistance, the bird – and the Doctor – would perish. “Hello?”

There was a rustling noise from inside the church ruins, and then one of the rocks moved, lifted right up in the air. Mouse’s eyes widened. She was ready to proclaim the presence of the Ancestors until she realized that the rock was affixed to a trap door in the floor of the church. A cloaked figure rose out of the hole in the floor, face hidden.

“Who are you?” It was a man’s voice.

“I have an injured bird. I need your help.”

“Sounds like good eating,” the hooded man said.

Mouse clutched the hawk protectively. “You cannot eat this bird! He…he belongs to Colonel John Sheppard, who sent me to find you.”

“Shit!” The man hurried forward, pushing his hood back to reveal dark skin and one eye that was completely black. “Rodney?”

He had a fearful countenance, but he knew the Doctor’s name, and that he was the bird, so Mouse had no choice but to trust him. She passed the hawk to him before making another graceless dismount; she at least stayed on her feet this time.

“What happened?”

“He was shot with John’s light weapon. It was an accident.”

“And where’s the Colonel?”

“Please, first help the bird. He cannot die.”

The man nodded. “Follow me.”

They went through the trapdoor, which Mouse was careful to close behind them. Below it was a tunnel lit with strange torches which did not burn, but glowed. Mouse hurried to keep up with the cloaked man, whose strides were long and purposeful.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Mouse.”

“I’m Aiden.”

“Can you help the bird? John said to remind you about a favor owed.”

Aiden laughed. “As if I’d ever forget.”

The tunnel led to a warren of large caves. There was a fire burning in one, and they were close enough to the surface that a hole had been cut into the ceiling to release the smoke. 

“They used these caves to hide from the Wraith,” Aiden explained. “Before they figured out how to use the shield.”

It had been a hundred years since the Wraith last came with their ships, taking people to feed from. Magicians like the Lady Varica had devised a way to keep the monsters out. Mouse didn’t know how to read, but she knew her history well enough.

A smaller cave served as a bed chamber, and it was on the bed that Aiden placed the hawk. He dug through the trunk at the foot of the bed, pulling out small wooden box with a latch.

“Let’s see what we can do,” he said.

The box contained medicines, some of them of the variety Mouse was familiar with, and some like the type the Doctor had used to patch her and John up the night before. She wondered if the Ancestors would heal the Doctor upon transformation, as they had with John.

“Now. Tell me what happened.”

While Aiden worked on the bird, Mouse perched on the edge of the bed and related the entire story: her escape, her first meetings with John and the Doctor, and John’s murderous plan.

“So you see, it is all my fault.” Mouse looked down at her feet, still encased in the too-big shoes. “If John and I had not met, none of this would have happened.”

“Yes it would’ve,” Aiden said. “If the Colonel wants to kill Varica, he’d have found a way with or without you. Besides, if you want to assign blame to someone you may as well give me my fair share.”

Mouse looked up at him. His black eye was less disconcerting than it had been when she first saw him. “What have you done?”

Aiden rinsed his hands in a bowl of water and dried them on his trousers. He’d given the hawk something to make it sleep and keep it from further injuring itself.

“I came to Altair because I heard it was safe from the Wraith. And I needed time to get clean, and get my head together. I’m the one that sent word to Atlantis. I’m the reason John and his team came here in the first place.”

“How were you to know what would happen? I am sure the Ancestors do not hold you accountable.”

Aiden patted her on the shoulder. “And I’m sure they don’t hold _you_ accountable either.”

Mouse hoped that were true, though she still felt the burden of guilt. “Will the hawk survive?”

“I think so. We won’t know for sure until the sun sets and I can see what kind of shape Rodney’s in.” Aiden headed for the door of the chamber. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Mouse’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food, but she was loathe to let the hawk out of her sight. Alternatively, she didn’t want to seem rude. Aiden seemed to sense her dilemma.

“How about I bring us each back a bowl and we eat in here?”

Mouse let out a breath, relieved. “Yes, thank you.”

“Back in a sec,” Aiden said.

That was two problems solved. Now if only Mouse could devise a way to stop John from getting to Altair and slaying the Lady Varica.

*o*o*o*

It had been a long, emotionally draining day, and Mouse couldn’t stay awake much past dinner. She curled up on the bed next to the hawk and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she woke, she was curled up next to the Doctor, who had his hand on her shoulder and was engaged in a whispered conversation with Aiden.

“…no time. I’ll be fine.”

“I get that, Doc. But we need a plan here.”

Mouse sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Doctor. You are well?”

He was sitting up as well, propped against several pillows. His right arm was in a sling, but he didn’t look as damaged as she had feared.

“No thanks to you idiots taking potshots at me,” the Doctor grumbled.

Mouse was so overcome that she hugged him, taking care not to jostle his injured arm.

“Oh…uh. I’m fine. It’s okay.”

“It is not okay,” Mouse muttered into his shirt. “John will reach Altair before we can hope to catch him up. The Lady Varica will kill him, and it is all my fault.”

“We can beat him there,” Aiden said. “But we still need a plan.”

Mouse sat back and attempted to compose herself. Now was not the time to let her emotions get the best of her, not when John needed help.

“How can we reach Altair before John?” she asked. “He is traveling by the main road, in a wagon.”

“I have a boat,” Aiden said with a grin. “The river cuts straight through to Altair.”

“But we need to leave as soon as possible.” The Doctor looked intently at Mouse. “Tell me about the Noondark Festival.”

“It is a yearly celebration of the Ancestors. People make pilgrimage from all over the land, and if their offerings are worthy enough we will come through the darkness at midday.”

“Darkness. What darkness?”

“The moon moves to cover the sun,” Mouse explained. “If the Ancestors are pleased with us, they return the light of the sun. If not, we will be plunged into darkness for a hundred years.”

The Doctor snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?” Aiden asked.

“An eclipse! A day without night, and a night without day. That _has_ to be the key to reversing the effects of the device. If we’re both there together, both as our human selves…we have to get there, Ford. We can plan on the way.”

Aiden didn’t seem to be quite as eager to get going. Instead he looked thoughtful. “That must be when I came through the Gate, at last year’s festival. But it was at the tail end of things. The eclipse was already over.”

“Thank you for that needless bit of backstory. Where are my clothes?”

“Mouse, do people regularly come through the Gate?”

Mouse looked at the Doctor. “Ancestral Portal,” he translated.

“No. It is only opened during the festival, as a sign of faith that the Ancestors will not allow any enemies through.”

The Doctor snorted. “Well, that’s obviously untrue. They let us through, and it wasn’t for any festival. I know they locked out Atlantis after everything happened. I bet there are only a couple of hand-picked addresses that they let in. Politics.”

“Their Gate has an iris, like the one in Atlantis,” Aiden added. “Easy enough to keep out anyone they want.”

“Will your people come?” Mouse asked the Doctor.

He nodded. “If there was enough information on Altair in the database, yes. Zelenka at least should be able to put the pieces together. They can’t come through from Atlantis, but they could come from one of Altair’s trading partners.”

“What about the _Daedalus_?” Aiden asked.

“No. Altair is too far out. Even traveling at hyperspace the trip would take too long. When they come, it’ll be through the Gate.”

 _When_ , the Doctor said. He sounded certain it would happen, and for the first time Mouse wondered what she would do once John and the Doctor returned to their home. She would have to slip out of Altair a second time, and try to find a new place to make a life. Perhaps south, in Glidden. It wasn’t as big, or prosperous, but perhaps she could find legitimate work. Had she any skills beyond picking pockets.

Surely the Ancestors would take into account all she was doing to help John and the Doctor, and they would see to it that she was given a chance. It was all she needed.

“I need some fucking pants!” the Doctor snapped.

“Let me see what I have that’ll fit you.” 

Aiden left and the Doctor turned to Mouse, his expression softening. “I wish I didn’t have to ask you to come, but…”

“But you need me to guide you through Altair.” Mouse patted him on the arm. “I will do everything I can to help you. And John. Whatever else may happen is in the hands of the Ancestors.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

*o*o*o*

Mouse cut through back alleys and side streets, face hidden by the cloak Aiden had given to her. Altair was full of people who had come to celebrate the festival and those who profited from them. The market square was a maze of stalls and stands peddling roasted meats and sweet pies, bolts of cloth and finely made shoes, tools and tack, baubles and frippery.

The pickings were abundant, and she’d already spotted two young thieves dipping their hands in other people’s pockets. Mouse was no more virtuous than the others, having secured a cage for the hawk shortly before the change came upon the Doctor at dawn. Aiden said they couldn’t count on him being close by when the moment came, and the Doctor had reluctantly agreed.

There had been no sign of John.

Getting to the palace was easily managed, despite the heavy presence of the Guard. Mouse attached herself to a group of other young girls waiting for their chance to leave offerings at the Ancestral Portal, keeping her head down and hood up. She looked at the feet of the other pilgrims, hoping to catch sight of John’s scuffed black boots, or the pants with the many pockets, though he was doubtless in disguise as well.

“What blessings do you ask of the Ancestors?” asked a girl with shiny blonde hair done up in complex braids. She carried a basket of braided Love Bread, no doubt her offering. “I’m seeking my one true love.”

“You would be better off asking for a husband that washes regularly,” Mouse replied distractedly. “True love is a curse.”

The girl sniffed. “Perhaps if you took better care of your own appearance you would not think so.”

“The Ancestors have more important tasks ahead than finding you an agreeable mate.”

Mouse tried not to take the girl’s words to heart. She knew she wasn’t much of a feminine specimen, but that had only been a boon to her in the past. What need did she have of soft curves, or lustrous waves of hair? Those things only brought the wrong kind of attention, gave men more things to grab. If the Ancestors saw fit to one day put a man or woman in her path meant for love, they would take her as she was or not at all.

The Hall of the Ancestors was as full of people as the rest of Altair. Offerings of all type surrounded the Ancestral Portal, which had been decorated for the festival with a twining rope of flowers and shiny greenery. Some people were undoubtedly staking a claim on a good spot for the height of the festivities, when the Lady Varica would accompany the King to the Hall. The King would make his traditional plea to the Ancestors to carry Altair through the darkness at midday.

As Mouse watched, the Ancestral Portal lit up and the waters burst forth, announcing the arrival of more pilgrims. Two carts came through first, pulled by animals that were much like horses, only more compact and with horns curving over their heads. The content of the carts was hidden below canvas draping, but the clinking of glass indicated alcoholic spirits. There was a driver in each cart, one of which seemed to be misshapen in some way beneath the bright, multi-colored cloak he wore. A hunchback, perhaps.

“They must be from Pallich,” the girl with the bread said. “The best mead comes from there.”

Her supposition was verified moments later by the Guard, who questioned the leader of the group and peered beneath the canvas of the first cart.

There were fifteen pilgrims from Pallich that passed through the portal and dispersed. Another group came through from someplace else ten minutes later, and still Mouse had not reached the Portal herself because the line was so long and slow moving.

She wondered if the Doctor’s friends had come.

When it came time for Mouse to leave her offering and make her request of the Ancestors, she pulled one specially made sweet bread from under her cloak. Aiden had given her the money to pay for it, and to have the baker decorate the top with a symbol that John would recognize: a pyramid overtopped with a circle. Mouse didn’t know what it meant, but hopefully it would alert John to the fact that he had friends in Altair. She left it in as prominent a place as she could without being too obvious.

“Ancestors, I ask nothing for myself,” Mouse murmured, assuming a properly penitent pose. “Only that you see fit to release my friends from their curse and return them to their home.”

Selflessness was its own reward, they said, but Mouse was hoping that the Ancestors might be so taken with hers as to give her a more tangible reward in addition to the satisfaction of seeing a wrong righted. 

Apparently even unvoiced thoughts of a selfish nature could be punished.

Mouse was yanked off her knees, the cloak pulling tightly against her throat. She struck back, kicking at the legs of the man who held her, but she wasn’t in a position to land any damaging hits.

“Unhand me!”

“And let our little Mouse scuttle away again? I should think not.”

It was Harron, Captain of the Guard, and Mouse’s hands curled into fists. He was the worst of the lot. He’d see her thrown back in the dungeons, and perhaps chained this time to keep her from escaping again. She couldn’t go back. She _wouldn’t_.

“I hear you’ve been helping enemies of the Crown as well. Foolish little Mouse. You will die in chains, or be executed. Fitting end for a common street rat.”

Mouse fought the icy fist of fear that had taken hold of her midsection. She stopped fighting Harron long enough to work her chin to the edge of the cloak so that it was no longer choking her. Then she lunged forward, pulling hard. The move gave her enough room to duck her head completely and slither down and out, so that Harron was holding an empty cloak in his hand.

She was running as soon as she was free, weaving through the line of pilgrims still waiting to leave their offerings. Harron bellowed furiously and gave chase.

“Stop that thief!”

Mouse kicked off the infernal, too-big shoes and dug in with bare feet as she flew across the slick marble floor of the Hall and out onto the rough cobblestones outside. The crowds worked in her favor, providing adequate cover as she made her escape. When she saw the carts belonging to the Pallich, which had been parked in a handy alcove that had been partially draped over with the canvas they’d carried, Mouse went low. She scurried on hands and feet like the creature she was named for, and rolled beneath the nearest cart.

Harron, bigger and with all the grace of a mad bull, ran past without stopping.

Mouse willed her heart to slow before it punched right through her chest. That had been too close. She would have to be more careful if she had hope of helping Aiden and the Doctor save John.

And then she found herself being roughly handled a second time as someone pulled her from under the cart. It was the driver, the one Mouse had taken to be a hunchback. Only he wasn’t deformed, not really, because he shed the multi-colored cloak and stood to his full height, and she had never seen someone so very tall.

“There a problem, kid?” the mountain of a man asked, and Mouse found herself at a loss for words.

“You are frightening her,” someone else said, a woman. Like the man she wore leather garments, though that was the only similarity between them.

“I am not afraid of you.” Mouse straightened her spine. She’d outwitted the Captain of the Guard, surely she could talk her way around two off-worlders. “I am Squire to a very important man and he would not like my being delayed by such morons.”

She hoped she’d used the Doctor’s word correctly. She tried out one of his scowly expressions too, for good measure.

The man narrowed his eyes at her. “Morons?”

“For whom do you squire?” the woman asked. She had a more kindly tone, but Mouse could see the shrewdness in her eyes.

“Colonel John Sheppard,” Mouse snapped, infusing his name with as much propriety as she could.

The man grinned at her, his expression more fierce than pleased. “Then you’re just the kid we’re looking for.”

*o*o*o*

Darkness was almost upon them, and Mouse felt as if she were balanced on the edge of a knife.

The Doctor’s people had come, just as he said they would. Soldiers in disguise, waiting for John to show himself. By the time Mouse had explained everything to Ronon and Teyla it had been too late to get word to Aiden, who was hiding out in the stables with the hawk. The plan had to unfold as originally intended.

Mouse found herself once again traversing the sewers, this time gaining access to the Hall of the Ancestors through a little-used grating in the floor. She pushed her way to the front of the crowd and crouched there on the floor, keeping herself as small and unassuming as possible.

A line of Altairan Guard kept the crowd back a respectful distance from the Ancestral Portal and the raised dais adjacent to it. Through a curtained doorway at the rear of the dais came the King, bedecked in royal robes and crown, and the Lady Varica in a voluminous dress. The crowd let up a cheer, but Mouse barely spared a glance; she was too busy looking for John.

“My people!” the King said, holding out his hands and beaming. “The time to prove our worthiness is at hand.”

Through the skylight in the ceiling Mouse could see that the sun was almost completely blotted out. The shadows in the Hall grew longer and longer, the candles surrounding the Ancestral Portal giving out a flickering, inconsistent light.

“Varica!” John shouted.

Mouse looked up. John was on the second-floor balcony, his weapon in hand. With her heart in her throat she watched as he swung down on one of the red banners bearing the seal of Altair.

“Stop him at once!” the Lady Varica called out to the Guard. 

John shot several of them with the light weapon. The King retreated in the face of violence, but the Lady Varica was unmoved. Her expression of hatred was fearsome to behold. John’s men made themselves known, tossing aside their disguises and also firing light weapons that dropped the Guard without marking them. People in the crowd screamed, and there was a rush for the exits.

“Colonel Sheppard! Stand down!”

“John!”

If John took notice of his men, he didn’t show it. While they took care of the Guard, John advanced on the Lady Varica until he was standing in front of her, weapon pointed at her face. Mouse was certain if he fired it, the result would be the same as when they fired upon the hawk.

“Undo what you did,” John said.

“He has left you,” the Lady Varica said smugly, hands curled around the smoothly sculpted dais railing. “As I knew he would. Or did you perhaps devour him in your other state?”

“Fix it!” John shouted. Mouse winced at the rage in his voice.

One of his men, who had dark hair and blue eyes and a solemn countenance, held a hand to his ear. “Dr. Zelenka, what’s your status?”

“John.” Teyla stepped forward, her hands out as if he might hurt her. “You don’t have to do this.”

John spared her a quick glance, and Mouse could see the way his hand shook, just a little. “Teyla. You don’t understand.”

“We have secured the device, John. We do not need her. Please do not do this to yourself.”

“He’s gone,” John said, his voice breaking. “I couldn’t protect him.”

“That’s dramatic, even for you.”

Mouse tore her eyes from John and looked at the rear of the Hall. The Doctor stood there, wearing the ill-fitting clothes Aiden had provided for him. Overhead the sun was but a glowing ring, the whole of it covered by darkness. Thank the Ancestors! The plan had worked!

“Rodney?”

John was staring as well, his body held so still he might have been a statue.

“Always rushing in without thinking things through,” the Doctor admonished. He walked slowly towards John. “It’s the eclipse. If I’d known about this stupid festival sooner…”

Anyone watching might assume the Doctor was unmoved, but Mouse could see that the opposite was true. He was looking at John the way a man dying of thirst might approach a fountain of clear waters. His hands kept clenching and unclenching, as if he wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab hold of John and never let him go.

Mouse was finding it painful to breathe.

“Rodney,” John said, the word more of a breath, and then he was running and throwing his arms around the Doctor. 

They held each other so tight, and then they kissed as if devouring each other, and Mouse could hardly see it through her tears. That is what true love looked like, she was sure of it.

Mouse didn’t know what made her turn around, but when she did she saw the Lady Varica had a weapon of her own, one that didn’t belong to Altair, and it was pointed at John and the Doctor.

“John!” Mouse screamed. “Behind you!”

John didn’t move, merely tensed up and covered the Doctor with his body, but John’s men reacted instantly and the Lady Varica went down from the stunning blasts of no fewer than seven weapons.

Mouse didn’t know if that was the sign the Ancestors had been waiting for, but in the next moment the moon moved and the first rays of the sun shone through the skylight. John and the Doctor didn’t look up, they just looked at each other, bathed in the warm glow of sunlight.

“It’s over,” the Doctor said softly. “Let’s go home.”

John nodded, but it didn’t seem he was ready to let go. He hugged the Doctor again, his face hidden in the crook of the Doctor’s neck. Mouse couldn’t be sure but she thought he was crying.

Mouse slipped out of the Hall. She had seen enough.

*o*o*o*

The streets of Altair were abuzz with the story of the Lanteans and how they deposed the Lady Varica. Mouse could tell who had been in the Hall and who had gotten the story second and third-hand. It seemed the more the story was told, the more outrageous it became.

Mouse would never forget, not for all of her years. Not one single moment of her time with John and the Doctor. Nothing that could happen in her life from that day forward would be as full of magic.

“Farewell, Jupiter,” she said. She stroked a hand down his nose, the fur there soft as velvet. “May your future masters be kind.”

“Oh, so the horse gets a goodbye and I get the metaphorical finger? Nice.”

Mouse fought back a grin, but she didn’t turn around. “I did not know what to say.”

“You could start by apologizing.”

“What?” That finally got Mouse to look around. The Doctor was standing a few feet away, arms crossed and scowling. John was right behind him, his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders. “What do I have to apologize for?”

“You ate my last Power Bar.”

She could see now that he was fighting a smile. He was teasing her. Quite suddenly the loss of her new friends hit Mouse like a blow. She had known them such a short time but she would miss them terribly.

“You are going home,” she said. “I am sure you can get more there.”

“And what about you?” John asked. “Where are you going?”

Mouse shrugged, like it didn’t matter. Maybe it didn’t. She was no worse off than she’d ever been. “I will find a place.”

“Good. You don’t have a plan.” The Doctor stepped forward. “That means you can come with us.”

“To Atlantis?” Mouse hadn’t ever considered that a possibility. She had lived in Altair all her life. What would it be like, to step through the Ancestral Portal to a whole new world? “What would I do there?”

The Doctor ticked each item off on his fingers as he said it. “Go to school. Learn to read. Do things other kids like to do, whatever that is. Build a new life for yourself.”

“You’ll have to stop stealing,” John added. “But in Atlantis you wouldn’t need to. We have plenty of food. We’ll get you clothes, your own room, anything you want.”

It sounded like a dream. Was this the reward the Ancestors wished to bestow on her? Was she even deserving of that kind of life?

“I have nothing to offer in exchange.”

“Hey,” John said. He hooked a finger with one of the Doctor’s, never losing touch with him. “You’re my Squire, aren’t you? You owe me some squiring.”

“Squiring? Do you even listen to yourself?”

“Come with us, Mouse. We need to keep the team together.”

Mouse knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime offer, and she’d be foolish to turn it down. “All right,” she said. “Since you seem to need my assistance to keep out of trouble.”

John looked relieved, and the Doctor nodded approvingly.

“Let’s get going, then. Chop, chop! I’ve spent enough time on this god-forsaken planet.”

“What of Jupiter?” Mouse couldn’t help asking, falling into step beside the Doctor. “Should he not also be rewarded?”

“Well…” John said.

“No! We are absolutely not bringing a horse home with us!” Even as he bickered with John, the Doctor slung an arm across Mouse’s shoulders. “I suppose he’s just supposed to wander the halls? Contrary to popular belief, we do not in fact live inside a Doctor Who episode.”

As Mouse headed toward her new life, she thought there just might be more magic in store for her after all. And perhaps a family as well. Not too bad for an orphan and a thief.

_Thank you, Ancestors. I will do my best to be worthy._

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** Sometimes at my second job I spend a lot of time washing dishes. (I work in a deli.) I get a lot of fic ideas when I’m engaged in that brainless activity, and this was one of them. I love _Ladyhawke_ , which is such a fun movie. And I thought it could be adapted pretty well to a canon divergent SGA fic. The only character I kept from the movie is Mouse, though I did change her gender.
> 
> Special thanks to nagi_schwarz for doing a speedy beta for me, and helping me work through some plot issues I’d had earlier on. You’re the best!


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